> \s ^ 







COrVRIGHT.lSSS, BY HAROLD ROOMBACH 



3El00Cbarl)'8 full UrSfriptibc Catalogue of Dramas, Comedies. ComedieHas, Farces, 
Tableaux-vivants, Guide-books. Novel Entertainments for Church, School and Parler 
Exhibitions, etc.. containing complete and explicit information, will be sent to any address 
on receipt of a stamp for return postage. Address as above. 



ROORBACK'S AMERICAN EDITION. 



PRICE, 15 CENTS EACH. 

This series embraces the best of plays, suited to the present time. The reprints have 
been rigicHy compared uitli the original acting copies, so that absohite purity of 
text and stage bvisiness is ivtrranti-d. Each play is furnished with an introductioii 
of the greatest value to the stage m.inager, containing the argument or synopsis of 
incidents, complete lists of properties and costumes, diagrams of the stage settings 
and practicable scene-plots, with the fullest stage directions. They are hand- 
somely printed from new electrotyoe plates, in readable type, on fine paper. 
'J'heir complete introductions, textual .accuracy, and mechanical excellence render 
thesB^ooks far superior in every respect to all editions of acting plays hitherto 
;>ublis)*y. 

i. AI.L THAT GLITTERS IS NOT GOLD. A comic drama in two acts. Six 
male, three female characters. Time, two hours. 

2. A SCRAP OF PAPER. A comic drama in three acts. Six male, six female 

characters. Time, two hours. 

3. MY LORD IN LIVERY. A farce in one act. Five male, three female charac- 

ters. Time, fifty minutes. 

4. CABMAN No. 93. A farce in one act. Two male, two female characters. 

Time, forty minutes. 

5. MILKY WHITE. A domestic drama in two acts. Four male, two female char- 

acters. Time, one hour and three quarters. 
t. PARTNERS FOR LIFE. A comedy in three acts. Seven male, four female 
characters. Time, two hours, 

7. WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME, A comedy-farce in two acts. Four male, 

four female charjiciers. Time, one hour. 

8. HOW TO TAME YOUR MOTHER-IN-LAW^. A farce in one act. Four 

male, two female characters. Time, thirty-five minutes. 

9. LADY AUDLEY'S SECRET. A drama in two acts. Four male, three female 

char.icters. Time, one hour and a quarter. 

10. NOT SO BAD AFTER ALL. A comedy in three acts. Six male, five female 
characters. Time, one hour and forty minutes. 

11. WHICH IS 'A^HICH ? A comedietta in one act. Three male, three female 
characters. Time, fifty minutes. 

12. ICI ON PARLE FRAN^AIS. A farce in one , act. Three male, four fcmal.- 
characters. Time, forty-five minutes. 

13. DAISY FARM. .'\ drama in four acts. Ten male, four female char.acter^. 
Time, two hours ami twenty minutes. 

14. MARRIED LIFE. A comody in three acts. Five male, five female characters. 

'I'iine, two hours. 

15. A PRETTY PIECE OF BUSINESS. A comedietta in one act. Two male, 
three female ch.uacters. Time, fifty minutes. 

16. LEND ME FIVE SHILLINGS. A farce in one ,ict. Five male, two female 
characters. Time, one hour. 

^7. UNCLE TOM'S CABIN.— Original Vorsion. A drama in six acts. Fifteen 
male, seven female characters. 'I'lme, three hours. 

18. UNCLE TOM'S CABIN.— New Version. A drama in five acts. Seven 
male, five female characters. Time, two hours and a quarter. 

19. LONDON ASSURANCE. A comedy in five acts. Ten male, three female 
characters. Time, two hours and three quarters. 

20. ATCHI I A comedietta in one act. Three male, two female characters. Time, 
forty iuiniites. 

21. ^y^O IS WHO ? A farce ill one act. Three male, two female characters. 
Time, forty minutes. 

aa. THE WOVEN WEB. A drama in four acts. Seven male, three female char- 
acters. Time, two hours and twenty minutes. 

\!!S~ A vy 0/ //if aboz'c -,vill he sen/ /-v iiun'l, /•ost-f>aiii. /i> any niiJrcss, on receiM 
c//hefyue. ' . . ' 

HAROLD ROORSACH, Publisher, 9 Murray St., New York. 



WOODCOCK'S 



LITTLE GAME 



A COMEDY-FARCE IN TWO ACTS 



BY 



JOHN MADDISON MORTON 



New American Edition Correctly Reprinted from the Ori- 
ginal Authorized Acting Edition, with the Original 
Casts of the Characters, Synopsis of Incidents, 
Time of Representation, Description of the 
Costumes, Scene and Property Plots, Dia- 
grams OF THE Stage Settings, Sides of 
Entrance and Exit, Relative Posi- 
tions of the Performers, Expla- 
nations OF THE Stage Direc- 
tions, etc., and all of 
THE Stage Business. 



Copyright, 1889, by Harold Roorbach 




OEC 141889, 



NEW YORK 

HAROLD ROORBACH 
PUBLISHER 



T'K^IV 



n^ 



, v.! I 



r 




WOODCOCKS' LITTLE GAME. 



CAST OF CHARACTERS. 



Mr. Woodcock 
Mr. Christopher 

Larkings 
Mr. A.DOLPHUS 

swansdown 
David 

Mrs. Col. Carver 
Mrs. Woodcock 
Mrs. Larkings 
Maid 



Royal St. y antes Theatre ^ 
London, 
Oct. 6t/i, 1864, 

Mr. Charles Matthews. 

I Mr J. Montague. 

\ Mr. J. Johnstone. 

Mr. W. Chamberlaine. 
Mrs. Frank Matthews. 
Miss Fanny Hughes. 
Miss Wentworth. 



Bridesmaids and Guests. 



IVallack's Theatre, 

New York, 
June, 13th, 1868. 

Mr. Lester Wallack. 

M. J. B. Polk. 

Mr. J. H. Stoddart 

Mr. J. C. Williamson. 
Miss Fanny Morant. 
Miss Mary Barrett. 
Mrs. Clara Jennings. 
Miss Monell. 



Time of Performance — One Hour. 



SYNOPSIS OF INCIDENTS. 



Mr. Marmaduke Woodcock, having become satiated with cutting 
capers, and nothing but capers, about town for twenty years, retires to an 
obscure country town where he marries the daughter of Mrs. Coi,. 
Carver, the formidable relict of a retired army officer, with the design of 
leading a steady rural existence. But no sooner is he fairly launched upon 
the sea of matrimony than he is surprised to learn from Mrs. Lakkinc.s, a 
vivacious lady of fashion, that his own programme is rendered nugatory, 
inasmuch as the bride, reared in seclusion, is determined to plunge 
lorlhwith into the vortex of town life — a determination heartily seconded 



4 WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 

by her mother who is resolved to make up for the lack of social enjoyment 
which she suffered during the lifetime of the lamented Carver. It has 
been assumed by both ladies not only that Mr. Woodcock is not satiated 
with the pleasures and gaieties of the world, but that he has not even 
tasted them and will join in their plans with alacrity. Accordingly the 
newly made Benedict is forced to abandon his cherished plans for rural 
repose, and apartments are duly engaged in town. There now follows a 
round of social dissipation novel and delightful to mother and daughter, 
but sadly irksome to Mr. Woodcock who is dragged out, in spite of him- 
self, night after night. At a ball given by Mrs. Larkings, he meets an 
old actjuaintance, Mr. Swansdown, who like himself, has been satiated 
with social gaieties, but contrives to avoid most of them by having a 
regular stock of indispositions to meet invitations with, or by returning 
home early, leaving his wife behind. Mr. Woodcock is about to adopt a 
similar expedient, but is deterred from putting it into execution on learning 
that his host, Mr. Larkings, compelled to pay attention to the neglected 
wife, had finally conceived a strong fancy for her — had, indeed, indited her 
a sentimental note which was probably even then on her dressing-iable. 
Mr. Swansdown, having found this letter, meanwhile, returns to the ball 
and furiously demands an immediate duel, promising, at the same time, to 
lay before Mrs. Larkings proof of her husband's perfidy within a half 
hour. In the duel, to which Mr. Woodcock has been forcibly dragged 
by both principals, Larkings is wounded in the arm, but afterward explams, 
satisfactorily, the letter to Mrs. Swansdown. In the midst of general con- 
sternation about explaining both duel and letter to Mrs. Larkings, who if 
she knew the facts, would surely bury her lord in the country for the rest 
of his existence, to preserve him from further lapses from virtue, a sublime 
idea suggests itself to Mr. Woodcock, whereby he may be restored to 
the rural simplicity for which he pines. Pretending to be the real culprit, 
he assumes the responsibility of letter, duel and everything else, with the 
result that his wife and mother-in-law, fearful of his settling down into an 
atrocious profligate if permitted to remain longer amid the temptations of 
the town, accompany him forthwith to the seclusion that the country grants, 
to the unconcealed delight of the supposed offender that, owing to his 
ingenuity, success has crowned Woodcock's Little Game. 

COSTUMES. 

Mr. Woodcock. — Act I. — Bridegroom's costume. Act II. — Evening 

dress ; crush (or silk) hat ; Inverness cape ; shawl to wrap about his neck. 

Mr. Larkings. It- • j -n u ^ 

Mr. Swansdown. } ^^^"'"^ ^■"^'^ 5 ""^^ ^^''• 

David. — Act I. — Livery. Act II. — Page's attire. 

^1 P "I Act I. — First Dress, handsome wedding costumes. 

M„ ' 1X7 „ '„ . >■ Second Dress, travelling costumes. Act II. — Fash- 
Mrs. W(X)DCOcx. f . , , •.•!.. 11 

) lonable evening toilettes, opera cloaks, etc. 

Mrs. Larkings. — -let I. — Travelling costume. Act II. — Fashionable 

evening toilette. 

Maid. — Neat cambric dress, white apron and cap, linen collar and cuffs. 

No jewelry. 



WOODCOCICS LITTLE GAME. 

STAGE SETTINGS. 
Act I. 




Act II. 



bbriv BacklBf 

'Folding Doors ' 

, • ■ • o^ 

jCbaa _, , Ch»Ir O,//^^ 

Dock % 

Door Dorr 



Clioji' Choir 



SCENE PLOT. 

Act I. — Plain chamber in 3 a., backed with interior backing in 4 g. 
Fireplace c, in flat. Doors R. and i,. of the firejjlace. Door R. 2 e. 
Window I.. 2 E. Sofa down L. Table and two chairs c. 

Act II. — Fancy chamber in 30., backed with interior backing, .showing 
lighted ballroom, in 4 G. Folding doors C. Doors K. 2 K. and I,. 2 K. 
Tall clock, with practicable hands, upR. c. Chairs near clock, and about 
stage. Sofa up L. c. 

PROPERTIES. 

Act T. — Furniture as per Scene Plot (table to have a drawer in it.) 
Writing materials on table, c. Wedding favor for D.win. Three brown 
pa|)er ijarcels, with letters attached. Watch and document for Woodcock. 
Document for Mrs. Lakkinos. 

Act II. — Two large bouquets for Woodcock. Tickets for Maid. 
Ticket, hat and overcoat for Sw.\.nsuu\vn. Watches for all the men. 
Armslings for Lakkings and Woodcock. Letter, in envelope, for 
SwANiDuw.N. Letter and card-case for David. 



6 WOODCOCK'S LITTLE CAME. 

STAGE DIRECTIONS. 

Observing, the player is supposed to face the audience. R., means right ; 
L., left; C, center; R. C, right of centre; i.. C, left of centre; i E., first 
entrance; 2 E., second entrance ; u. E., upper entrance; i, 2 or 3 g., tirst, 
second or third grooves. Up Stage, toward the back ; Down Stage, 
toward the footlights. 

R. R. C. C. L. C. L. 

Note. — The text of this play is correctly reprinted from the original 
authorized acting edition, without change. The introductory matter has 
been carefully prepared by an expert, and is the only part of this book pro- 
tected by copyright. 





WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 



ACT I. 



Scene. — An Apartment in the house of Mrs. Colonel Car7>er at Stow- 
oti-the- Wold; fire-place inc., doors, R, and L, of it ; another door 
R. 2 E. ; d! sofa, L. ; at L. a window ; table, c, ivith writing 
materials; chairs, &^c., &*c. 

David /« livery and wearing a large wedding favour, is seated at 
little table, writing. 

David. Let me see what I ha' written ! [reading letter) " Dear 
Cousin Jane, I write this from the little town of Stow-on-the- 
Wold, in Gloucestershire — last week the population amounted to 
2719, but as soon as master and me arrived, it suddenly shot 
up to 2721 — the church bells have been ringing all the morning in 
honour of my master's marriage with Miss Caroline Anastasia 
Sophia Elizabeth Carver, which is now being solemnized" — 
{noise of shoutipig and hurrahing heard) hey-day! {jumps up and 
looks out of windoio) it be all over, and here comes the bride and 
bridegoom ! {shouts repeated — David, in his enthusiasi/i waving his 
arm out of the windoi, • and hurrahing with all his might, then com- 
ing down) Poor master ! he's gone and done it now, and no mis- 
take ! {listening) Here comes the wedding party — I must finish 
my letter to Cousin Jane by-and-bye ! {putting letter in his pocket) 

Mrs. WooDCOK, Mrs. Colonel Carver in bridal attire, and 
two Bridesmaids enter at door r. c. 

Mrs. C. Don't agitate yourself, my darling child, it is rather a 
nervous affair, I know, but it's all over now — nothing could be 
better, you got through it charmingly. 

Bridesmaids. Oh, yes, charmingly ! 

Mrs. C. A little repose, a mouthful of sponge cake and glass of 
sherry will soon compose you. Ladies, support your precious 
charge — come. Exeunt, door R. 2 E. 

Woodcock, {without) This way, my dear friends. 



8 WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 

Enter Woodcock, door v.. C, in his bridegroom's costume, followed 
by two or three Male Friends, with whom he is shaking hands 
in succession. 

I'm obliged to you — very much obliged to you, indeed, for seeing 
me through the awful — I mean the interesting ceremony ! You'll 
excuse my following you to the dining room ; you'll find my res- 
pectable bride and her blushing mother there — no — I mean — really, 
what with the excitement, the agitation, the — the 

Friends, {^laughing) Ha, ha ! of course ! — all right, old fellow — 
ha, ha, ha ! Exeunt, R. 2 E. 

Wood, {coming down slowly — after a short pause) It's all over! 
there' s not the slightest doubt about its being all over ! the knot is tied 
and I am fairly launched on the sea of matrimony ! I felt uncom- 
monly nervous at first, and then, to make matters worse, I thought 
I never should have got my white kid gloves off ; and yet they 
were quite loose when I put them on. I can't imagine what made 
them shrink so, unless it was the state of nervous excitement they 
were in — I mean, I was in ! 'Pon my life, after all, a wedding in 
a country town is a very jolly affair! In London, a couple walk 
into church and out again, and it makes no more sensation than if 
they went into a pastrycook's and bought a bun apiece I but in 
the country it creates a general excitement — the bride and bride- 
groom become objects of universal sympathy — I mean, curiosity 
everybody wishes them joy, at least they say they do! In short, 
as I said before, it's a very jolly affair ! I shouldn't mind being 
married two or three times a week for a considerable time to come. 
{seeing David) Ah, David ! 

David, {sighing, and very seriously) So, you be really married, 
sir? 

Wood, {assuming a very hilarious manner) Yes, David ! quite 
married ! You may look at me with the perfect conviction that 
you are contemplating the portrait of a gentleman thoroughly, 
totally, and completely married. (David turns aivay to hide his 
laughter^ You needn't turn your head away, David. I don't 
mind your laughing. I'm laughing myself, ha, ha, ha. {forcing 
a very loud laugh — then after a short pause) It does seem funny 
though, doesn't it, David? 

David, (l. c.) Yes, sir ! it is a rum go and no mistake ! 

Wood. I said nothing about a "rum go" David, — I limited 
myself to the expression "funny ! " 

David. Only to think of your setthng down into a respectable 
member of society ! Dear, dear, when I think of your desperate, 
wild, audacious capers 

Wood. Husii, David! not so loud ! my respected mother-in-law 
might hear you; and between you and me Mrs. Colonel Carver is 
rather a formidable sort of person ! 



WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 9 

David. Ees, sir ! she has a stiffish, frumpish look with her ! 

Wood. I said nothing about " stiffish and frumpish," David, — I 
hmited myself to the expression "formidable." As you say, 
David, I have been a sad scapegrace — a desperate rascal — but 
when a man has been cutting capers and nothing but capers for 
twenty years, it's high time he cut them altogether — in plain Eng- 
lish, I felt I had had my whack, and that's why I've just married 
Miss Caroline Anastasia Sophia Elizabeth Carver! 

David. Well, sir, they do say a reformed rake makes the best 
husband, and you certainly had a regular good "innings" at it. 

Wood. I said nothing aljout "innings," David, — I limited my- 
self to the expression "whack! " Has anything been sent from 
the railway station ? 

David. Yes — sir, three parcels — here they be, sir ! [^thrce brown 
paper parcels are on the table) 

Wood, (^taking one parcel and opening letter, which is fastened to 
it) "Two morning gowns in merino — best quality, quilted and 
lined, — cords and tassels as to order," that's all right ; now the 
other parcels, 'Ddiv\d^[ope>iino;- the papers attached to them) "Three 
woolen smoking caps, three cloth ditto, three silk ditto, three vel- 
vet ditto," — all right, {opening third paper) " Twelve pairs of 
slippers to measure, three lined with fur, three with flannel, &c., 
&c., Quite correct. 

David. Morning gowns, caps, and slippers! Why, I never seed 
you with one or the other in all my life, never ! 

Wood. Exactly ; because, hitherto, my existence has been 
passed in coats that cramped my body, hats that pinched my head, 
and boots that crippled my feet! But that's all over, Da\ id ; 
to-morrow 1 insert my body into a morning gown, my head into a 
cap, my feet into a pair of slippers, and in that easy and unencum- 
bered state 1 sink into a comfortable arm chair for the remainder 
of my existence. Not a bad notion, eh, David? 

David. I call it a first-rate dodge, sir I 

Wood. I said nothing about a "dodge," David ; I limited my- 
self to the expression "notion." That being the case, David, I 
hereby convey, transfer, and make over to you from the time 
being, my entire stock of dress coats, ditto trousers, ditto waist- 
coats, white neckcloths, black hats, and patent leather boots. 

David. Oh, thank'ee, sir, thankee ! 

Mrs. Larkings. {without) Don't trouble yourself! I dare say 
you've plenty to do on such a day as this. 

Wood. Heyday ! see who it is, David. 

David, {looking off at R. c.) It be a lady, sir. Lor! how 1 
should laugh if it was one o' your old London sweethearts come 
down to forbid the banns — ha, ha, ha ! 

Wood. Hold your tongue, sir, and show the lady in! 



lO WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 

As 'QkV\v> goes up, enter Mrs. Larkings, at door R. c, in travelling 

costwnc. 
David, {running back to Woodcock, and aside to him) All right, 
sir — I never seed her afore ! 

Wood. Leave the room ! ( David runs out — Woodcock advances 
/^ Mrs. Larkings) Madam, may 1 — eh? yes — Mrs. Larkings! 

Mrs. L. Yes ! in propria persona. Well, am I too late ? I see I 
am. You're married.'' I see you are. [looking at Woodcock 
and then bursting into a laugh) Ha, ha, ha! I can't help laughing 1 
Wood. So it seems. Yes, fair lady, I entered the holy state of 
wedlock exactly seventeen minutes and a half ago. [looking at 
■watch ) 

Mrs. L. I should so like to have seen you ! what fun it must 
have been — ha, ha, ha ! 

Wood, [aside) What does she mean by " fun ? " and what can 
she be laughing at? [aloud and assuming a very solemn tnanner) 
Mrs. Larkings, if you allude to the solemnization of the nuptial 
rites, / saw no fun in it. 

Mrs. L. No, of course _yr'?/ didn't ! ha, ha, ha! but tell me how 
is — how is Mrs. Woodcock? Ha, ha, ha! 

Wood, [aside) Mrs. Larkings is gradually becoming un- 
pleasant. 

Mrs. L. Of course I couldn't allow the dear girl to be married 
without wishing her joy, poor thing. 

Wood, [aside) What does she mean by " poor thing ? " 
Mrs. L. So I took the express train, and here I am! I suppose 
she was dreadfully agitated, poor thing? 

Wood, [aside) That's tzuo poor things! [aloud) Agitated! not 

she ; she was all animation — all joy — all 

Mrs. L. Yes, yes! she naturally would be at first, poor thing. 
Wood, [aside) Another "poor thing," and Mrs. Larkings and I 
shall have a row. 

Mrs. L. Well, as I have unluckily arrived too late to witness the 
ceremony — I'd have given anything to have seen you — ha, ha! 
[laughing innnoderately) You don't mind my laughing, do you ? 
Wood. Not at all ; it's rather pleasant than otherwise ! 
Mrs. L. All I can do is to give the bride and bridegroom my 
blessing, and go back by the next train to London ! 

Wood. And to Larkings ! By-the-bye, how is your Christopher? 
I hope your Christopher is still the same fond, indulgent Chris- 
topher you've always found your Christopher. 

Mrs. L. [enthusiastic ally) He's a darling ! we are happy as the 
day is long ! and no wonder — we married for love ; our tastes, our 
opinions are the same, and what is still more important, we are 
nearly the same age — Christopher is twenty-four ; I am twenty- 
two ! now between vou and Carohne the gap is much wider. 
^Vood. The what'? 



WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. li 

Mrs. L. The gap ! she is under twenty, while you are — how old 
shall we say ? [smiling) 

Wood, [very quietly) Thirty-nine ! 

Mrs. L. Oh, that's the age you've decided on, eh? well, if you 
wish it, we'll say thirty-nine ! [smiling again) I'd better tell Christ- 
topher in case he might let the cat out of the bag ! [smiling) 

Wood, [aside) Pleasant creature! very! [aloud) Yes, Mrs, 
Larkings — and at thirty-nine I think it time for a man to marry. 

Mrs. L. Then why didn't you ? [smiling) 

Wood. I am married ! at least, such is my impression. 

Mrs. L. Yes, yes! but I don't mean //;« thirty-nine ! your other 
thirty-nine youry?n/ thirty-nine ! [smiling) 

Wood, [aside) Her sex protects her. [aloud) I repeat that hav- 
ing reached the age of thirty-nine, and having moreover, suffi- 
ciently enjoyed what is called " life " 

Mrs. L. You determined to marry and settle down quietly, 
and all that sort of thing — exactly! that's intelligible enough, as 
far as you are concerned ; but — your wife? 

Wood. My wife? Well, what? 

Mrs. L. She /<rrt^«'/ enjoyed what is called "life." 

Wood. Eh ? no — of course not ; but 

Mrs. L. You intend that she shall! of course ! indeed, Mrs. 
Colonel Carver writes me word that she has arranged a delightful 
wedding trip for you. 

Wood. Has she? [aside) That's kind of Carver ! very I 

Mrs, L. Yes! Brussels, Switzerland, Italy, &c., &c., &c,; she 
hasn't quite settled which. 

Wood. Hasn't she ? to tell you the truth no more have I, [aside) 
I shall seize the earliest opportunity of giving Carver notice to 
quit. 

Mrs. L, With a young and blooming bride for a companion, 
how delightful it will be ! The Alps ! Mount Vesuvius I the 
Colosseum at Rome ! 

Wood. Yes, very delightful ; but very fatiguing ; besides, I've seen 
it all. I know Switzerland and Italy, just as well as I do St. Martin's 
Church. I admit I've only seen the Colosseum at Rome, twice ; 
but as on my second \'\^\\. I found it in exactly the same state as on 
my first visit, I've no wish to pay it a third vis'n, merely to estab- 
lish the fact that on my third visit, I found it in exactly the same 
state as on my second visit. 

Mrs. L. But your ruife hasn't seen it. 

\A^ood. What of that ? I can describe it to her, can't I ? besides, 
I married to stop at home, not to go abroad ! in a word, Mrs. 
Woodcock, like a sensible woman, entirely approves of the pro- 
gramme I have drawn up for our connubial existence, [taking 
paper out of his pocket ) Here it is — I haven't consulted her about 
it, but she entirely approves of it, nevertheless. In tlifc morning 



12 WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 

she'll attend to her household duties, while I go out fishing — I'm 
very fond of fishing! After dinner she'll do a little gardening, 
water the plants, pull up the weeds, kill the caterpillars, while I 
smoke my cigar, and — look on. In the evening she'll take her 
work, darn the stockings, sew on buttons, and so on, while I take 
a nap in my arm chair. Then we wind up with a lively game at 
dominoes, or " double dummy," have a light supper — pork chops, 
or a basin of gruel, and — retire ! [^throwiiig paper on the table) 

Mrs. L. [siniHng) Very charming, indeed! but pray be cau- 
tious! if you plunge poor dear Caroline too suddenly into such a 
vortex of gaiety and dissipation, I'm afraid it will be too much for 
her ! {satirically) 

Wood, [^aside) What Larkings could possibly see in this woman, 
I can't imagine ! 

Mrs. L. One word more ! now, Mr. Woodcock ! look at me, 
Mr. Woodcock! When Mrs. Colonel Carver consented to your 
marriage with her daughter, was she acquainted with your pre- 
vious career, Mr, Woodcock ? your long catalouge of follies and 
extravagancies, Mr. Woodcock? 

\A^ood. [alaniied and anxiously) Hush! 

Mrs. L. Your notorious reputation for gallantry, Mr. Wood- 
cock ? 

Wood. Hush — hush! don't speak so loud ! [looking round, then 
in a low tone to Mrs. Larkings) I'll tell you how it happened! 
You see, we were two Woodcocks— in fact, a brace of Wood- 
cocks, Benjamin and Marmaduke. I'm Marmaduke, from which 
you may infer with a tolerable degree of accuracy that my brother 
was Benjamin ! Well, Benjamin was always one of the quiet 
going sort, in short, a serious young man ; in fact, he was known 
as the "tame Woodcock," because he was what is called decid- 
edly "slow;" now I was called the "Wild W^oodcock," 
because 

Mrs. L. You were decidedly " fast ! " 

Wood. Yes ! Well, when Mrs. Colonel Carver made the usual 
inquiries as to respectability, moral character, and all that sort of 
thing — she somehow or other stumbled on the wrong Woodcock — 
the tame one instead of the wild one — and 

Mrs. L. And you took advantage of her mistake? Fie, fie, Mr. 
Woodcock ! I couldn't have believed it of you. 

W^ood. The very words I said. " Woodcock," said I, " I couldn't 
have believed it of you." But you won't betray me, my dear and 
highly valued friend ? you won't go and dash the cup of connubial 
bliss from my lips ? because I have seen Mrs. Colonel Carver turn 
very red in the face at the merest trifle, and — here she comes. 
[with an imploring look at Mrs. Larkin(;s) 

Enter Mrs. Carver, r. 2 E. 

Mrs. C. Mrs. Larkings here ? where is she ? Ah, my dear, 



WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 13 

delighted to see you! and yet I've half a mind to scold you for 
arriving so late ; we've been obliged to get married without you, 
haven't we, Mr. W. ? [crossing to V^' ooncoCK.) 

Wood. Yes, Mrs. C. ! 

Mrs. L. Tell me how is dear Carohne ? 

Mrs. C. Very well, but very agitated — and no wonder [secitig 
Woodcock, who is approaching, afid in a severe tone of astonish- 
ment) Mr. W. ! 

Wood, {bothered) Yes, Mrs. C. (Mrs. Carver motions him to 
keep at a distance, WOODCOCK retreats quite be^vildered) 

Mrs. C. [to Mrs. L.) Go to her, my dear ! you'll find the dear 
child in her room, exchanging her bridal attire for her travelling 
dress. 

Wood, {overhearing, L. c.) Umph ! Travelling dress? did you 
say " travelling dress.'' " 

Mrs. C. Yes, Mr. W. ! but I forgot, you were to know nothing 
about it! [to Mrs. Larkings) I think we arranged that Mr. W. 
should know nothing about it? 

Mrs. L. (r. c.) Of course not! our object was to give him an 
agreeable surprise, {smiling) 

Wood. Our object ? — then {crosses to Mrs. Larkings) you join- 
ed in this charming little plot, eh ? ha, ha ! {forcing a laugh) 

Mrs. C, Joined in it? She concocted it ! 

Wood. Did she ? ha, ha ! [with a savage grin at Mrs. Lark- 
ings) 

Mrs. C. Yes ; why don't you thank her, Mr. W. ? 

Wood, [sulkily) I do. [very savagely, to Mrs. L.) I'm obliged 
to you. Do you hear? — I'm obliged to you. 

Mrs. L. [smiling satirically at Woodcock) I am thanked suffi- 
ciently already, in having suggested a proposal, which evidently 
gives you so much satisfaction ! And now I'll join dear Caroline ! 

Mrs. C. Do. Mr. W. ! (Woodcock takes no notice — very loud) 
Mr. W. ! 

Wood, [sulkily) Well I 

Mrs. C. Hand Mrs. Larkings to the door. 

Wood. Eh — very well, [taking hold of MKS.'LKKKlfiG^.'s hand) 
Come along! { pulling her after liim to door, R. 2 E., and then point- 
ing to it) There you are! [looking fiercely at "^Iks. L., 7i> ho bursts 
out laughing in his face and goes out — Woodcock, buttoning up his 
coat, and with an air of resolution) I don't care — though it should 
come to a fight between Carver and me, I will not pay a third visit 
to the Colosseum at Rome. 

Mrs. C. [anxiously watching Mrs. Larkings out, and then 
throwing off her former stiff and disguised maniur) Done at last ! 
[lookiui^ knowingly at Woodcock, and shaking her head playfully 
at hint) Ah ! — ah ! 

Wood. (r. c, astonishecl— aside) WTiat the deuce is the matter 
with Carver ? 



14 WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 

Mrs. C. (l. c, still in the same playful manner) Andhas Marmy 
been deceived — has Marmy been taken in ! — he ! he! he ! 

Wood, {aside) I see, Carver's been at the sherry ! 

Mrs. C. Come here, Marmy ! you don't mind me calling you 
Marmy ? Marmaduke is such a mouthful, whereas, Marmy is — 

\A^ood. Mrs. Carver you're at liberty to Marmy me as much as 
you think proper, but allow me tp observe, that having already 
paid two visits to the 

Mrs. C. Yes, yes ! now, listen to me ! in a word, I am not the 
woman you take me for ! 

Wood. Eh? you're not Mother Woodcock? — I mean, Mrs. 
Woodcock's mother ? 

Mrs. C. Pshaw ! I don't mean that! in short Marmy, you have 
repeatedly said to yourself — don't deny it — " What a regular wet 
blanket I shall have for a mother-in-law." 

Wood. No, no ! I solemnly protest that — [aside) — I have said so 
no end of times ! 

Mrs. C. You are mistaken, Marmy ! that austerity of deport- 
ment — that rigidity of manner was all assumed. Listen ! You 
see this brooch ? ( pointing to one in her dress) It contains the por- 
trait of the late Lieutenant-Colonel Carver, done in oil. 

W^ood. Carver done in oil ? Yes ! 

Mrs.C. He was a very handsome man. 

W^ood. Was he ? You're quite right to mention it. 

Mrs. C. Especially on horseback. 

W^ood. Then I should certainly have had him taken on horse- 
back 1 

Mrs. C. He vowed that he had never loved before ! 

Wood. Of course ! ha, ha! that's what they all say ! ha, ha ! 
( forgetting himself ) 

Mrs. C. [astojiished) Marmy ! 

Wood. I mean to say, I've heard say that's what they all say — 
that's all I say ! 

Mrs. C. I believed him, and we were married ! That very day, 
Marmy, he retired on half-pay ! 

Wood. Did he though ? and, how old was Carver done in oil ? 

Mrs. C. Thirty-nine ! 

W^ood. You mean, he said he was thirty-nine. Ha, ha ! I've 
known lots of fellows, who say they're thirty-nine when in fact 
they — never mind ! 

Mrs. C. I was under twenty, had been strictly and severely 
brought up — is it then to be wondered at that I yearned, I may 
say, panted for those gaieties, those amusements so natural to my 
age ? But, alas ! it was not to be, for while I was revelling in the 
anticipation of entering into what is called " Life," he told me, 
and I repeat his own unfeeling selfish words, that he had had 
his whack. (Woodcock looks astonished) Whack ! such a vulgar 
expression ! 



WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 15 

Wood. Low ! very low, indeed ! a colonel, especially a colonel 
on horseback, ought to have been above it ! 

Mrs. C. But that wasn't all ; he actually had the barbarity, on 
our wedding day, to draw up what he called a programme of our 
matrimonial existence. (Woodcock still more astonished, suddenly 
remembers his own programme, lohich is lying on the table) in which 
/was condemned to the dull monotony of household duties. 

Wood, (aside) How very odd. I wonder if there was anything 
in it about killing buttons, and sewing on caterpillars. 

Mrs. C. While he, forsooth, was to enjoy himself ; go out fish- 
ing, smoke his cigar, and take his nap in his arm chair, (angrily) 

Wood, (aside) This is a very singular coincidence ; because, I'll 
take my oath, / never saw Carver's programme! (he has gradu- 
ally approached the table, and, watching his opportunity, suddenly 
snaic/ies (he paper off it, and crams it into his packet) 

Mrs. C. What's the matter? 

Wood. Nothing. 

Mrs. C. But ///«/ wasn't all; he actually expressed his intention 
of laying aside his splendid regimentals— those regimentals that I 
loved so much, and wearing nothing but those odious abominations 
called morning gowns for the remainder of his existence, (here 
Woodcock, watching his opportunity, opens table drawer, ajtd thrusts 
in the parcel containing the mortiing gowns, then slams the drawer) 

Mrs. C. What is the matter ? 

Wood. Nothing. 

Mrs. C. (going to table, and standing on the side opposite to Wood- 
cock, who is eyeing the retnaining two parcels with anxiety) But 
that wasn't all ! (banging her hand oti one of the parcels to Wood- 
cock's ^^n-^/ a/«r;«) Hanging up his noble helmet in the hall, and 
giving his military boots to his servant, he inserted his head into 
one of those atrocities called smoking caps, and his feet into a 
pair of embroidered slippers, (during the above, she has kept on 
banging the paper parcels) Yes ; emljroidered, no doubt, by some 
unhappy creature he had professed to love as he did me. (walk- 
ing atoay in an excited manner — Woodcock immediately opens 
table drawer, aiid thursts in one of the parcels : there not being room 
for the other. Woodcock hastily thrusts it up under his waistcoat 
in front.) 

Mrs. C. What is the matter ? 

Wood. Nothing ! 

Mrs. C. Such. Marmy, was my married life for twenty years. 
Anxious, therefore, that Caroline should escape my wretched fate, 
I resolved to find her a husband wlio, like herself, had never 
enjoyed what is cal+ed " Life." 

Wood. And you pitched upon me ! 

Mrs. C. I did ; every inquiry I made about you convinced me you 
were the very man I was looking for. "He is no second Carver," 
said I, " he is not satiated with the pleasures, the gaieties, the 



t6 WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 

amusements of the world," said I, "he has never even tasted 
them," said I, "and therefore," said I, " he'll be the more ready 
to plunge headlong into the dazzling and intoxicating scene before 
him," said 1. 

Wood. Did you ? 

Mrs. C. Yes! "Caroline will plunge in with him," said I, "and 
I — I shall plunge in after both of them," said I. 

Wood. You ? 

Mrs. C. Of course ! [zvith increasing animation) Haven't I to 
make up the twenty years I lost with Carver? yes, and what's 
more, I mean to make them up ! Yes, Marmy ! balls, concerts, 
operas, assemblies, masquerades, regattas, races ! — wherever you 
are, there will I be ! wherever you go, there will I go. Oh, how I 
long to begin ! how I pant to mingle in "the gay, the gay, the fes- 
tive scenes — the halls, the halls of dazzling light," and sport the 
light fantastic toe in the merry, joyous dance! [danci7ig a few 
steps) 

Wood, {after a stare of astonishment) Dance? a woman of her 
substance ! she couldn't do it ! {aloud) " I'm only afraid, my very 
dear Mrs. Carver, that "light fantastic toe" of yours won't have 
much to do in our quiet little town of Stow-on-theWold ! 

Mrs. C. Stow-on-the-Wold ? Faugh! I'm speaking of London! 

Wood. {wi//i a stati) London ? 

Mrs. C. Yes ! Where we shall be this very evening. Yes, 
Marmy, that's the httle agreeable surprise we had in store for 
you, ha, ha, ha ! 

Wood, {aside) Now, Woodcock, prove yourself a man. Wood- 
cock — assert your dignity, Wookcock — and let Carver see you're 
not going to stand any of Carver's nonsense. Woodcock ! {aloud 
and drawing hi/nse/f up) Mrs. Lieutenant Colonel Carver — {thrust- 
iug his hand in his waistcoat, the paper parcel shows itself below 
it — Woodcock hastily thrusts it up again) I repeat, Mrs. Lieuten- 
ant Colonel Carver 

Mrs. C. I know what you are going to say, Marmy, but don't 
be alarmed ! we've settled everything without you — in short, 
you'll have nothing whatever to do except to supply the money 
— there ! 

Wood, {still more dignified) Mrs. Lieutenant Colonel Carver — 
{here the parcel again appears below his waistcoat— he thrusts it up 
so violently that it shmcjs itself above it under his chin) 

Mrs. C. In the first place that kindest, best of creatures, Mrs. 
Larkings has already secured apartments for us close to their own 
residence in the Regent's Park, eight guineas and a half a week, 
the cheapest thing I ever heard of ! 

W^ood. Mrs. Lieutenant Colonel Carver 

Mrs. C. Especially as it includes everything except plate, linen, 
firing and attendance ; but that's not all, Marmy ; she vows she'll 



WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 17 

not accept a single invitation unless we are included ! When I say 
we, I mean Caroline, Marmy and me ! {playfully and skipping 
about, R. ) 

Wood, {aside — after a savage look at her) There are circum- 
stances under which a man ought to be allowed to strangle his 
mother-in-law ! 

Mrs. C. Ah ! here comes Caroline, already equipped for travelling ! 

Enter Mrs. Woodcock, r. 2 e.. in travelling costume. 
Come here, my darling — there! [pointing to Woodcock, who is 
looking very sulky) Look at him, isn't he the very picture of hap- 
piness? Doesn't his very eye twinkle with delight? 

Mrs. W. Yes. And if I were not so happy myself, I should 
scold you well, sir, for keeping this charming, delightful visit to 
London a secret from me. (playfully shaking her finger at Wood- 
cock, 2vho tries to get up a smile) 

Mrs. C. He knew nothing about it, my dear; he's quite as agree- 
ably surprised as you are — ain't you, Marmy? 

Wood, {sulkily) Yes; of course. 

Mrs. W^. Why, what a serious tone you say it in ! 

W^ood. Do I? {shouting) I'm delighted ! enchanted! There — is 
that better ? 

Mrs. W. (c.) Yes, much better, {suddenly) I see how it is — 
this arrangement of mamma's may have mterfered with some 
plan of your own — perhaps you intended taking us to Switzerland ? 

Wood, [quickly) No, no! 

Mrs. C. {knowingly, R.) No, my dear; if Marmy had taken us 
anywhere it would have been to Italy. 

Wood, {still more quickly, L.) No, no, no; in short, I wish it 
to be distinctly understood, that having already paid two visits 
to the 

Mrs. C. {interrupting) Yes, yes; never mind, Marmy, if you 
are a good boy, you shall take us to Italy next year! We'll climb 
up Mount Vesuvius together, Marmy — to the very top, Marmy! 
{with enthusiasm) 

Wood, {aside, after a savage look at her) Only let me once get 
get her there, and I'll plunge her headforemost into the crater. 

Mrs. C. In the meantime let us think only of London. 

Mrs. W^. Yes, dear, delightful London ! Remember this is 
my first visit to the Metropolis! You have been there, I suppose? 
{to Woodcock) 

Wood, {forgetting himself) Ha, ha! I should rather think I 
have — I mean, I've passed through it once or twice. 

Mrs. C. Yes ; but only on business. 

Wood. Of course — only on business, [aside) What an atrocious 
humbug I am ! 

Mrs. C. And therefore it will be quite as much a novelty to him 
as to you. 



l8 WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 

Wood. Yes. [aside) Novelty ! to a man who has had twenty 
years of it! I'm in for it — I'm booked for a second innings. 
Never mind: there's otte point on which they'll find me firm and 
immovable as Gibraltar itself, and that is, that having already paid 
two visits to the 

Enter Mrs. Larkings in travelling dress, door K. 2 E. 

Mrs. L. (r. c. ) Well, good geople ? but I needn't ask — I see by 
your happy faces (Woodcock puis on a grin) that my plan of 
the campaign has met with universal approbation. 

Mrs. C. (r. ) Yes, we're all charmed with it! Mr. Woodcock 
especially ! he positively can't find words to express his delight ! 

Mrs. L. (l. c.) Is it to be wondered at, that having hitherto led 
so calm, so tranquil, so sedate a life, {looking with intention at 
Woodcock) he should long to taste the forbidden fruit ? ha, ha ! 
My only fear is, that when he once begins there'll be no stopping 
him ! ha, ha, ha ! 

Wood, (l.) Ha, ha, ha ! [malcing a savage face at Mrs. Lark- 
ings, aside) 

Mrs. L. Here, ladies, is a programme I have drawn up of your 
first three weeks' "Life in London," [showing a paper) an inces- 
sant, unflagging whirl of dissipation, I promise you. By-the-bye, 
I quite forgot to mention that Mr. Larkings has placed his riding 
horses at your disposal. 

Mrs. C. How delightful ! I long to be in the saddle. 

■Wood, [aside, and looking at Mrs. Carver) She'll never stop 
in it unless she's tied in, she's too round, she'll roll off, to a cer- 
tainty ! 

Mrs. W. {to Mrs. Larkings) And can you, will you indeed 
fulfil all your delightful promises ? 

Mrs. L. Yes! not only those I have made to you, but to Mr. 
Woodcock, [with ititetition, and then aside to Woodcock) namely, 
not to strip the "Wild Woodcock" of his borrowed plumes — not 
to betray him to a certain lady who turns "very red in the face at 
the merest trifle," provided he promises to think less of himself, 
and more of his wife ; in other words, that he consents to exchange 
programmes, [after some hesitation, Woodcock draws his pro- 
gramme out of his pocket, looks imploringly at Mrs. Larkings, who 
shakes her head — he then gives her his programme, and snatching 
hers out of her hand, thrusts it angrily into his pocket) 

Enter David, door, r. 2 e. 

David, [annouftcing) The wedding breakfast be all ready for 
the company, and the company be all ready for the wedding 
breakfast ! 

Mrs. C. Come along! a mouthful of wedding cake and a bumper 



WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 1 9 

of champagne to the health of the bride and bridegroom, and 
then — hey for London ! (David /ooks very much astonished) Now, 
Marmy, your arm to Mrs. Larkings. 

Wood. (l. c.) Yes — one moment ! [taking T)\v\u aside) 'Dz.vid, 
my stock of dress coats, ditto trowsers, white neckcloths and 
patent leather boots, that I made you a present of 

David. (L.) Yes, sir, 'cause you said you had done with them. 

Wood. I thought I had — but I haven't! I want them again, 
David, for my "second innings." David, [making a wry face) 
you can have the morning gowns, caps and slippers instead, [stop- 
ping D.KXiu who is about to exclaim) Hush! the morning gowns 
and caps you'll find in that drawer, (pointing to table) and — [look- 
ing towards the Ladies) — here are the slippers ! [pulling out the 
parcel fwm under his waistcoat and slipping it into David s hands) 

Mrs. C. [impatiently) Now, Marmy 1 [they go off, R. 2 E. ) 

Wood. Coming ! [ru7ts up to join the hxuiES^pitches the parcel 
to David, who stands in a state of wonder) 

CURTAIN. 



ACT II. 



Scene. — Handsomely furnished Apartment at Mr. Larkings' . Large 

folding doors at C, showing Ball-room within illuminated and 

decorated ; handsome clock, with practical hands, R. c. ; dance 

music heard from inner room, when door is open ; doors, R. andi.. 

Very loud double knock heard. 

Maid, [outside) This way if you please, ladies. 

Enter. MrS. CARVERawrt'MRS. WOODCOCK, rt/L.,^«?f^rt'^'(/4>'LADY'S 

Maid — the Ladies are both in very fashionable evening costume, 
opera cloaks, d^c, &^c. 

Mrs. C. [as she enters, and turning to 7i>ing) Now, Mr. Wood- 
cock, we're waiting for you. 

Wood, [without) Here I am, Mrs. Carver. 

Enter WOODCOCK, L; he has a crush hat on, a shawl round his tuck, 

an Inverness cape, and carries a large bouquet in each hand — he 

is also in an elaborate evening dress. 

Mrs. C. At last ! I thought you were never coming ! 

Wood. [7U ho looks miserable and in a sulky tone) You wouldn't 
have me rush into a gentleman's drawing room as if I'd got a wild 
bull at my lieels? 

Maid. Allow me, madam, [taking off Mrh. Woodcock's cloak) 



20 WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 

Mrs. C. Now, Marmy, make yourself useful I [motioning him to 
take off her cloak) 

Wood. Eh ? oh, I know ! [taking hoM of M.K^. Carvers c/oak be- 
hind and giving it a violent tug) 

Mrs. C. How clumsy you are to be sure ! (Maid assists in taking 
off her cloak) 

Maid. Here's the ticket, madam, [presenting ticket) 

Wood. Wait a minute young woman ! [putting both the bou- 
quets under his arm) 

Mrs. C. What are you doing ? [taking the bouquets and arrang- 
ing them) 

Wood. (/^ Maid) Here's my hat — here's my comforter — here's 
my Inverness cape — [giving the articles to her) — and, now, give me 
a ticket for the lot. 

Maid. Here it is, sir. No. 8l. [giving ticket) 

Wood. 8i? it's i8! 

Maid. No, sir, you've got it upside down! {Wxio goes out with. 
things, R. ) 

Wood. I see! One's obliged to be particular, because at the 
very last dinner party I was at, I got a ticket No. 9 in exchange 
for a bran-new brown silk umbrella ; and when 1 asked for my bran- 
new brown silk umbrella in exchange for ticket No. 9, they told me 
that ticket No. 9 was ticket No. 6, and handed me one American 
overshoe and a walking stick. 

Mrs. W. Do, mamma, arrange the flowers in my coronet. 

Mrs. C. They're all right, my dear; that's more than I can say 
for my dress! only see how Marmy has rumpled it! [smoothing 
dress) 

Wood, (c.) Me? come, I like that! considering I had to ride 
outside, if I rumpled any body, it must have been the coachman ! 

Mrs. C. Now, my dear, I think we may venture into the ball 
room! 

Mrs. W. Without our fans and gloves, mamma ? 

Mrs. C. Marmy has got them. 

W^ood. (l. ) Eh? yes. [feelitig in his pockets) No, I haven't. 

Mrs. C. Nonsense, you put them in your pocket, you must have 
them somewhere about you ! 

Wood. If I have, they must have slipped down into my boots ! 
Would you like me to take ofif my boots ? [sulkily) 

Mrs. C. I dare say you've dropped them. 

Wood. No, I'm positive I didn't drop them, [aside) I flung 'em 
away ! 

Mrs. C. How careless of you ! what's to be done ? 

Wood. Well, it strikes me there's only one thing to be done — 
go home again, [hurrying to door, R., and calling out) Ticket No. 
18 ! No. 81 1 two opera cloaks, one hat, one comforter, one Inver- 
ness cape. 



WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 2 1 

Enter Mrs. Larkings, at c. in fashionable evening dress. — Ladies 
a«f/ Gentlemen are seen promenading within — Music. 

Mrs. L, [^seeing the ladies) Ah! you've arrived at last, I quite 
began to despair of you. 

Wood, [still at door "R. , he has got the two opera cloaks, the hat, 
and the comforter, and is holding up and examining an Inverness cape) 
Holloa! this isn't my Inverness cape! I'll take my oath this is 
not my Inverness cape ! 

Mrs. L. Why! What is Mr. Woodcock about? 

Mrs. W. [plainti'oely) Getting our things together to go home ! 
He's either lost or mislaid our fans and gloves ! 

Mrs. L. Wliat of that I I can supply you with no end of fans, 
and dozens of pairs of gloves! 

m'^^ W [ ^^' *^^^^"^ y°" — thank you ! 

(Woodcock, who overhears this, rolls all the things together in 
" a lump and flings them hack into the room with disgust) 

Mrs. L. But what makes you so late ? 

Mrs. C. Oh! it was entirely Marmy's fault. 

Wood, {sulkily) Of course — of course it was Marmy's fault ! 

Mrs. W. You can't deny it, Mr. Woodcock. You must know — 
[to Mrs. Larkings)— that I had bought this coronet expressly for 
your ball to-night, but when I wanted it to put it on, it had disap- 
peared ! (Mrs. LKKiLiiiGS looks aside at Woodcock — he puts on a 
look of innocence) 

Mrs. C. Yes ! We hunted for it everywhere. At last where do 
you think it was found? In Marmy's writing desk ! ha, ha, ha! 

Wood, [forcing a loud laugh) Ha, ha, ha! 

Mrs. C. Poor fellow ! he remembered afterwards putting it there 
to prevent its being lost. 

Wood. [7'cry quickly) Yes ! 

Mrs. L. Indeed! [looking at Woodcock) Some people might 
imagine it was to prevent its being found ! 

Mrs, C and Mrs. W. (c. ) Oh, no — no! 

Wood. Oh, no — no ! [aside) As I have observed two or three 
times already, what Larkings could ever have seen in that woman — 

Enter David, at u, as a page. 

David. Please, sir, coachman says you didn't tell him what time 
he's to come with the carriage. 

Mrs. W. (r.) Now, remember, Mr. Woodcock, you promised 
me faithfully that we shouldn't be late — say half past two. 

Wood. \'ery well ! [to David) A quarter past two. 

Mrs. W. I said, half-past, [smiling) 

■Wood, [shouting, L. ) Half-past? Exit David, i.. 

Mrs. C. Yes! \\e really must have a good night's rest, or we 



22 IVOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 

shall not be fit for the fancy dress ball to-morrow, [to Mrs. Lar- 
KINGS) we have settled our costume, my dear! Caroline is going 
as Little Red Riding Hood, Marmy as a Neapolitan brigand — 
(Woodcock tnakes a wry face) — and I — a hi Pompadour ! 

Wood. [^as,idc) I don't exactly know what ^ piinipadoor'\%, but I 
hope it's something decent ! [dance music again heard) 

Mrs. L. Come, ladies ! by-the-bye, I musn't forget your fans 
and gloves — this way ! you'll find us in the ball room in less than 
five minutes, Mr. Woodcock, this way. 

Exeunt Mrs. Larkings, Mrs. Carver, awe/ Mrs, 
Woodcock, at door, c. to l. — door closed. 

Wood. That attempt of mine upon Mrs. Woodcock's coronet 
was a contemptible failure, [yawning] I wonder if I shall ever 
have a good night's rest again ! Never mind, I'll make up for it 
when I get back to Stow-on-the-Wold — if ever I do get back ; I 
won't get up for a month! I believe Mrs. Woodcock would go 
back if it wasn't for Carver. I wish somebody would marry Car- 
ver ! I'll give any man a thousand pounds if he'll marry — and 
after all, Carver's not absolutely repulsive — and I'm sure there's 
plenty of her for the money. 

Enter Swansdown in evening dress at C. frotn L. 

Swans, [going to door 'K., and taking ticket out of his pocket) 
Ticket No. 37. (Maid appears, takes ticket, and disappears) 

Wood. Why, that's Swansdown ! he's actually giving up his 
ticket ! 

Swans, [seeing WoodcoCk) Ah, Woodcock! how d'ye do? 
[receivitig a hat and cloak fvm Maid, and coming forward 
putting them on) That'll do ! Good-night, Woodcock ! [crosses to v..) 

Wood. Stop a bit ! you don't mean to say you're going home, 
Swansdown ? 

Swans. Of course I am ! I ought to have been in bed two hours 
ago. [yajiming) 

Wood. So ought I! [yawning) I say, Swansdown, how do you 
manage it ? 

Swans. Manage what ? 

Wood. To go home without Mrs. Swansdown ? 

Swans. I leave her behind ! 

Wood. Exactly — but — how do you manage to leave her 
behind ? 

Swans. I go home without her ! 

Wood. I see ! 

Swans. Good night ! [going) 

Wood, [stopping him again) Don't be in a hurry ! 

Swans. 1 am so sleepy ! [yawni?ig ) 

Wood. So am I. [yawning) 

Swans. The fact is, Woodcock, [yawning. Woodcock does the 



WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 23 

same) before I got married, I had seen a good deal of this sort of 
fun. [yawnint^ very loud) 

Wood. So had 1 ! [yawning very loud) 

Swans. In short, I married, not to go out, but to stop at home . 
[ yawning) 

Wood, (yawning) So did I ! but how do you manage it ? 

Swans. Manage what ? 

Wood. Why, to stop at home ? 

Swans. I don't go out ! 

Wood. Exactly — but how do you manage to " don't go out?" 

Swans. I stop at home. 

Wood. I see ! 

Swans. I hit on a very simple plan ! I had a regular stock of 
sudden indispositions to meet every invitation that came in ; head- 
aches, rheumatisms, lumbagoes, &c. , &c., Mrs. Swansdown 
grumbled a good deal at first, but she soon got used to it, 
and 

Wood, [suddenly grasping 'S'W AUSXiO^va' s hand, and shaking it 
violently) Thank you, Swansdown! I'm obliged to you. Swans- 
down ! good night, Swansdown. [stopping him again) One 
moment — when you married Mrs. Swansdown, had she got a 
Carver .'' 

Swans. A what ? 

Wood. A Carver — I mean, a mother ? 

Swans. No ! 

W^ood. Never mind ! Good night, Swansdown ! Go home to 
bed, Swansdown ! Exit Swansdown, l. 

I'll try it ! 1 will, by Jove ! there's that horrible fancy dress ball 
to-morrow night ! what " sudden indisposition " shall I have — I've 
had the measles 

Enter Larkings at c. in very fashionable ez'ening costume. 

Lark. (R. c, 5^^m^ WOODCOCK) Ah, Woodcock! All alone, 
eh? I'm afraid you're not enjoying yourself? 

Wood. (l. C.) Yes, I am — in a quiet way ! 

Lark. Delightful party, eh? By-the-bye — I congratulate you — 
your wife is really a very nice sort of person — very nice, indeed ! 
[in a patronizing tone) but her dancing has been sadly neglected. 
However, make yourself easy, I've engaged her for the next three 
polkas on purpose to teach her the proper step ! 

Wood. Have you ? 

Lark. After that I'm engaged to Mrs. Swansdown for the rest of 
the evening. Swansdown's gone home as usual ! ha, ha ! poor 
Swansdown ! " when the cat's away," you know, eh ? ha, ha ! 

Wood, [drawing himself up) Mr. Christopher Larkings! 

Lark. Come, come. Woodcock — that grave face won't do with 
me, besides, it isn't because 1 flirt with my friends' wives that I 



24 WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 

love them ! I flirt with yours, but I don't love her, at least, not 
yet! ha, ha! but I say, old fellow, don't follow Svvansdown's 
example — what can a man on the wrong side of forty expect if he 
will go home to bed and leave a pretty young wife behind him, 
eh ? ha, ha ! {poking Woodcock in the side) 

Wood. Sir ! my friend, Swansdown, has too much confi- 
dence 

Lark, [laughing) Of course he has, that's the delicious part of 
it, ha, ha ! I say, Woodcock, [ia/cing his arm, and aside to him) 
I don't mind telling you — and after all, I meant no harm — but 
when Mrs. Larkings went down to your wedding at — what d'ye call 
the place — Toad in the Hole 

Wood, Stow-on-the-Wold, sir! [with dignity) 

Lark. No, matter! well, I suddenly remarked what a fascinating 
person she was 

Wood. Mrs. Larkings? 

Lark. No. Mrs. Swansdown ! I used to say all sorts of stupid 
things to her 

Wood. That I'll be bound to say you did ; well, there's no 
great harm in that ! 

Lark. No, but that's not all — not that I meant any harm — well, 
after a luncheon of grilled chicken and champagne, this after- 
noon — I don't know how the deuce it happened, but I've a sort of 
stupid, misty recollection of writing a stupid sort of letter, full of 
doves and loves, and Cupid's darts and bleeding hearts — you 
know what I mean — which letter, I'm under a very strong impres- 
sion, Mrs. Swansdown will find on her dressing table when she 
gets home to-night. 

Wood. Mr. Larkings ! 

Lark. Yes, yes, it was a stupid thing to do, I know, and I 
heartily wish I had the confounded letter back, but it's too late 
now, and after all, I meant no harm [po/katnusic heard) There's 
the polka! I mustn't keep Mrs. Woodcock waiting. Good bye ! 
[going) 

Wood. Stop ! Larkings runs out at c. to L. 

Catch me leaving Mrs. Woodcock alone for a single moment! 
No, no, I'll stick to her like her shadow. I'll revel in Redowas ! 
I'll plunge into polkas ! I'll have a shy at the sausages — I mean 
Schottisches ! [here the polka 7ni(sic becomes louder) 1 don't half 
like my wife's skipping about with that fellow now ; if I could only 
manage to get her away [looking at clock, which is in a conspicuous 
part of the stage) Only a quarter past one. [after a short pause) 
That clock's too slow, [lottnging up stage, assuming an unconcerned 
manner and humming a tune — when near the clock, looks fight and 
left, then Jumps up into a chair, puts the clock on one hour, and 
jumps oj^ chair again — then taking out his watch) Hey-day! my 
watch is an hour too slow by that clock, and I know there isn't a 



WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 25 

better clock in England, [putting his watch on an hour, then 
hastily thrusting it into his pocket, aside) Just in time ! 

Enter Mrs. Woodcock, ate. from l. 

Mrs. W. Still here, my dear ? Why don't you come into the 
ball-room ? 

Wood. I will presently — there's plenty of time! It's quite early 
yet! [seeing that he is standing between Mrs. Woodcock and the 
clock, moves aside) I repeat, it's quite early yet! [pointedly, and 
looking at clock) 

Mrs. W. [seeing clock) Eh .? Can it be possible ? Twenty 
minutes past two ? 

Wood. Oh! that clock's too fast ! Look here! [taking out his 
watch) Halloa ! Why it's half-past two I That clock's too slow. 

Mrs. W. How the time slips away 1 

Wood. Yes ! the last hour's gone remarkably fast. 

Music — some five or six couples, including Mrs. Larkings and 
Mrs. Carver, come in at C, dancing the polka — the last couple 
consisting (^ Mrs. Carver and a very Young Man — polka 
ceases. 

Wood, [who has gone to door, R.) Ticket No. 81 — two opera 
cloaks — a hat — a comforter — an Inverness cape ! 

Mrs. C. Why ! What is Marmy about ? [to Mrs. Woodcock) 

Mrs. W. Look at the clock, mamma! 

Mrs, C. Half-past two ! 

Enter Larkings, at C. from L. 

Lark. What's that? Half-past two? No such thing, gentle- 
men — 1 appeal to you ! Out with your watches! (Larkings and 
Gentlemen take out their watches — each presenting his to his 
Lady) 

gSs. } Half-past one! 

Mrs. W. Another hour ! Delightful ! 

Mrs. C. Charming ! [polka music remmed) Mrs. Woodcock, 
allow me. [polka— '^\.K'i>. Carver seizing her fomur partner and 
whirling him out after the others, at C. to L. ) 

Wood, [who has been standing looking on with the opera cloaks, 
G^c, &^c., in his arms — dashes them down in a lump on the stage) 
That's a failure ! Then I won't go home at all ! I'll sleep here ! 
[seising up the cloaks, &^c., and dashing them one after the other on 
the sofa, L. c, and then throwing himself upon them) There ! 
[burying his head in the pillow) This is very comfortable 

Swansdown hurries in, at L., i)ery pale and excited. 
Swans, [as he enters) Woodcock! Woodcock! [seeim^ him on 
sofa) Ah, there he is! [shaking him) Woodcock, get up! 



26 WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 

Wood, [jumping 7ip) Halloa, Swansdown, come back again ? 

Swans, [with a savage grin, R.) Yes! ha, ha, ha! ^with a 
forced laugh) 

Wood. (L. ) Don't make such dreadful faces! What's the 
matter ? 

Swans. Matter? [furiously and grimacing') 

Wood. Don't grind your teeth in that horrible way. Recollect 
they're not your own ! 

Swans. Listen ! [grasping Woodcock's ami) On my return 
home, I found Mrs. Swansdown'smaid in Mrs. Swansdown's room 
fast asleep ! Something was lying on the dressing table ! It was a 
letter ! 

\Vood. [aside) Larkings's billet ! 

Swans. Yes ! A letter for Mrs. Swansdown, from — from — fiends 
and furies ! 

Wood. I don't know either of the gentlemen. 

Swans. From Larkings ! Christopher Larkings ! There was no 
signature ; but I knew the handwriting ! It was a declaration — a 
declaration ! Don't you hear? [shouting) 

Wood. Yes— yes! Well! 

Swans. I rushed into my library — opened my desk — took out 
my duelling pistols — put them in my pocket, and — here I am ! 
[savagely and walking to and fro) 

Wood, [folloiving him) Pistols? Oh, I say, Swansdown — 
Swansdown ! Oh, 1 say ! 

Swans, [stopping suddenly) Larkings dies ! 

Wood. Yes; but don't — don't go and cut him off in the flower 
of his polka — I mean, his youth ! 

Swans. Ah ! here comes Mrs. Larkings ! She shall know all ! 

Enter Mrs. Larkings, at c. from L. 

Wood. No — no ! [holding Swansdown bcuk, who tries to join 
Mrs. Larkings) 

Mrs. L. (r. ) Still here, Mr. Swansdown, then I shall claim you 
for my partner in the polka ! 

Wood, [aside to Swansdown) A thousand pardons, madam' — 

Mrs. L. Refuse a lady ? Fie — nay, I insist upon it ! 

[Polka music without — Swansdown begins very unwillingly to 
dance re^ith Wlv(s. Larkings — Woodcock anxiously following 
them and dancing polka steps after them) 

Mrs. L. [while dancing) Besides, Mr. Larkings is dancing with 
Mrs. Swansdown ! 

Swans. Ah ! [polking savagely) 

Mrs. L. Yes, fourth time to-night ! 

Wood, [still dancing after them, and aside to Mrs. Swansdown) 
Don't tell him that, mum — don't tell him that ! 



WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. ZJ 

Mrs. L. Luckily, I'm not jealous ! Christopher is constancy it- 
self! 

Swans, [savagely) Is he ? Ha, ha ! 

Wood, {stt/l dancing after them, and aside to Swansdown) 
Hush, Swansdown, hush ! 

Mrs. L. Yes any woman has my full permission to wean Chris- 
topher's affections from me, if she can! 

Wood, [still polking by their side, and aside to Mrs. Larkings) 
Don't aggravate him, mum — don't aggravate him I 

Swans. Indeed ! What if I place in your hands the proof of 
your husband's infidelity ? 

Wood, [same play) Hush, Swansdown ! 

Mrs. L. Ha, ha ! I defy you ! 

Wood, [same play) Don't defy him, mum, don't defy him. 

Swans. Indeed ! then that proof shall be in your hands in half 
an hour. 

Wood, [same play) Hush, Swansdown! 

Swans. A letter! a declaration ! addressed to my wife by — your 
husband ! 

Mrs. L. [suddenly stopping) Christopher unfaithful ! Support 
me ! ( falling into WooDCOCk's arms, who quite bewildered, goes on 
dancing the polka) 

Enter Mrs. Carver, c. from l. 

Mrs. C. [seeing Mrs. Larkings in Woodcock's arm) Ah! Sup- 
port me ! [falling into Woodcock's other arm, who, still niore bewil- 
dered, unconsciously keeps up a polka step) 

Enter Larkings, c. from l. 

Lark. Ah ! [about to run to Mrs. Larkings) 

Swans, [stopping him) One moment ! [drags him forward — then, 
savagely aside to him) We must fight, sir. I know all ! all ! 

Lark, [aside) The devil! [aloud) Well, sir, to-morrow morning! 

Swans. No! Now! Now! it's a moonlight night ! Primrose Hill 
close at hand, and I've pistols in my pocket! Woodcock! [to 
Woodcock, w/io has placed Mrs. Larkings and Mrs. Carver 
each in a chair and is fanning them alternatclv, still dancing a polka 
step — Swansdow.n _^(7^j up, seizes WoODCOCK^ the ann, and drags 
him down — aside to him) You'll be my second ? I'm going to shoot 
Larkings ! 

Lark, [grasping Woodcock's other arm) You'll be my second ? 
I'm going to shoot Swansdown ! 

Swans. ) r- I 

Lark. }C°"^^' 

They drae;- WoODCOCK out between them at L. , WOODCOCK 
struggling, &^c. 

Mrs. C. [who recovers and runs to Mrs. Larkings) My dear Mrs. 
Larkings, look up, there's a dear creature. 



28 WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 

Mrs. L. Oh, oh, oh ! [sobbing) I'm the most miserable woman 
in the world ! 

Mrs. C. [soothingly^ So you shall be, there ! but what has hap- 
pened ? 

Mrs. L. (c.) My husband — Christopher has written a love let- 
ter to Mrs. Swansdown ! Oh, the base, fickle, perfidious monster! 

Mrs. C. (r. c.) My dear friend, never indulge in a plurality of 
epithets ; select one, a good one, and stick to it ! I never called 
Carver anything but a brute ! But are you sure ? 

Mrs. L. Quite certain ! Mr. Swansdown has promised to send 
me the letter in half an hour ; if it contains the proof of Christo- 
pher's inconstancy, oh, what shall I do? 

Mrs. C. Nothing, till Mr. Swansdown has sent you the letter — 

Mrs. L. Very well! I'll wait 'till the half hour has expired — 
patiently, very patiently, [fearing her handkerchief) if the letter 
doesn't come, I'll go to Mr. Swansdown for it — yes — late as it is, I 
will ! and you'll go with me, won't you? [imploringly) 

Mrs. C. Yes, we'll go together ; in the meantime, come with me 
into the ball room — everybody has doubtless left by this time, and 
you'll find a glass or two of sherry and a few sponge cakes a great 
support in your affliction. Come ! 

Exeunt aic. to L. — Mrs. Carver supporting'M.ft.s. Larkings; 
at the same moment the door, L., slowly opens, and WOOD- 
COCK /dr/^ in, then speaks off. 

Wood. The coast is clear ; you can come in. 

Enter Larkings luith his right arm in a sling — SwANSDOWNy^/Zozf^- 
ing, evidently very much out of temper— takes a chair, bangs it 
down 071 stage, and falls into it, L. 

Lark. [k. , pressing his right arm) How confoundedly painful my 
arm is. 

Wood, (c, soothingly) Yes! I daresay it smarts a little ! 

Swans, [dashing his hat down on stage) I'm disgusted ! yes, dis- 
gusted that this stupid ridiculous duel should have occurred ! [to 
Larkings) Why the deuce didn't you tell me you were sorry for 
what you'd done — that you meant no harm? my feelings wouldn't 
have been wounded ! 

Lark, [pressing his wounded arm) Nor mine either! but that's 
not the worst of it — if Mrs. Larkings discovers what has taken 
place, do you know what she'll do ? she'll leave London and bury 
me alive in the country for the rest of my existence. 

Wood, [aside) Good gracious! I wonder if Mrs. Woodcock 
would serve jne the same if/ were to — by jingo ! it's worth think- 
ing about, [aloud) But how is Mrs. Larkings to know anything 
about it? / shan't betray you — Swansdown won't — you won't 
betray yourself? 

Lark. No ; but my wounded arm will ! besides there's that 



WOODCOCIC'S LITTLE GAME. 29 

unlucky letter of mine, which Swansdown has promised to send 
to my wife. 

Swans, [producing letter) Here it is. If I don't send it, what 
can I say ? 

Wood, [taking the letter) Say ? why — that you made a mistake 
in the handwritmg — that it wasn't Larkings's after all ! — but some- 
body else's — anybody's — [suddenly) — Mine! 

Lark. ) ^r 3 

c \ Yours ? 

Swans. ] 

Wood. Yes! What's the consequence? When it's known that 
you and I have been fighting, no one will imagine it's on account 
of Mrs. Swansdown ; consequently her reputation will be saved ! 

Swans. True ! but zounds then ! what have we been fighting 
about ? 

Wood. Eh ? oh, for the fun of the thing ! or else some difference 
of opinion — [suddenly) — the war in America! that's the very 
thing! you're for the Federates! I'm for the Confederals! — 
that'll do famously — it'll save you [to Swansdown) from being 
laughed at ; you [to Larkings) from being buried alive in the 
country. 

Swans. ) A J 5 

Lark. {And you? 

Wood. Never mind me. Woodcock's got a little game of his 
own. [aside) It's a capital idea — a sublime idea ! [to Swansdown) 
Now go home ; and spread the report of our duel right and left ; 
mention it at your butcher's, baker's, and candlestick-maker's — 
in short everywhere ; and don't forget you're a Confederal — I 
mean — never mind ; go along. 

Swansdown hurries out at L. 

Lark. But I say, what the deuce is to become of me in the 
matter ? 

Wood. Eh? I have it; you've been my second. 

Lark. Very well ; then 1 can go to Mrs. Larkings. 

Wood. Yes. Stop ! take that sling off. 

Lark. Well, but 

Wood. Take it off, I say ! 

Lark, [taking off sling and putting his artn in his waistcoat, 
with evident pain) There ! and now give me that confounded 
letter of mine. 

Wood. Oh dear, no! I can't spare that, [taking letter out of 
envelope and reading) " To see you is to love you." [aside) And to 
think I've got to copy such twaddle as that, [listming) Hark ! I 
hear some one. You know what you've got to do ; don't go and 
make a mess of it. [aside) And I got married to settle down 
quietly — it looks like it! Never mind; Woodcock's got his little 
game ! Hurries out at L. 



30 IVOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 

Enter Mrs. Larkings and Mrs. Carver, c. 

Lark, [assuming an air of unconcern) Ah, my dear ! 

Mrs. L. (r. — extending her arm) Keep your distance, sir. I 
know all — all! In a word, I am now going to Mr. Swansdown's — 
you hear — to Mr. Swansdown's, for a certain letter — a love letter, 
sir, whtten by you to Mrs. Swansdown. 

Lark, (c.) By me ! Ha, ha, ha! 1 should like to see it. Go and 
fetch it, my dear ; why don't you go for it, my love ? Tra, la, la ! 
[hummittg a tune) 

Enter David, l. 

David, [to Mrs. Larkings) Please, ma'am, [aside) Don't let 
me forget what master told me to say. [aloud) Here be a letter, 
ma'am, from Mr. Swan — Swan 

Mrs. L. [eagerly) Swansdown? give it me. [snatching letter from 
David, but keeping her eyes fixed on Larkings, who tries to appear 
unconcerned, and endeavors to get up a whistle) You may go, 
David! Exit David, L. 

Lark, [aside) Woodcock's gone and bungled the business — I 
knew he would. (Mrs. Larkings tears open the envelope) She's 
opened it ; it's all over with me! 

Mrs. L. [reading) "To see you is to love you." [suddenly) Eh ! 
can it be ? yes ! yes ! [with an exclamation of joy, and throwing 
her arms round Larkings) Oh, my dear, darling Christopher! 

Lark, [suffering paiji in his arm, and trying to disengage himself 
— aside) Confound it ! how she's hurting me ! 

Mrs. C. What do you mean? 

Mrs. L. That I'm the happiest woman in the world — that Chris- 
topher is innocent I [throws her arms again round him) 

Lark. Don't! don't ! 

Mrs. C, Innocent? 

Mrs. L. Yes, as a lamb! the letter isn't in his hand-writing — 
look ! [giving letter /"£> Mrs. C, aftd making another spring at Lar- 
kings, who keeps her off ) 

Mrs. C. [reading letter) " To see you is to " [suddenly, and 

with a violent scream) Ah ! 

Mrs. L. rtwrt'Lark. [startled) What's the matter? 

Mrs. C. [after a patise gives another louder scream) Ah ! the 
wretch ! the monster ! 

Mrs. L. Who? who? 

Mis. C. Woodcock ! the handwriting is his! (Larkings laughs 
aside) Ah! [another loud scream) 

Lark. Hush ! you'll alarm the neighbourhood. 

Mrs. C. (l. C.) I don't care — I must scream! I shall die if I 
don't scream! take me somewhere where 1 can scream! 

Mrs. L. Hush ! for Caroline's sake. 



WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 3 I 

Mrs. C. True ! she must know nothing — and yet I must scream. 
I'll go out in the street and scream. 

Mrs. L. Hush ! had you not better take poor Carohne home on 
some pretext or other ! 

Mrs. C. I will ! and then I'll come back and kill Woodcock. 
I'll send for a cab this moment ! 

Mrs. L. Pray be cautious. 

Mrs. C. I will ! but I shall sufifocate if I don't scream — I have 
it — I'll scream in the cab! [hurries out, c.) 

Mrs. L. [with an imploring look at Larkings) Oh, can you for- 
give me ? 

Lark, [in a patronizing tone) Yes, yes ! 

Mrs. L. Dearest, best of Christophers — [suddenly embracing him 
again) 

Lark. Don't ! don't! 

Mrs. L. How could I suspect you? but isn't this dreadful con- 
duct of Mr. Woodcock's! actually before the honeymoon is 
over! 

Lark. Very shocking, indeed. 

Mrs. L. The man ought to be put in the pillory ! 

Lark. At the very least. 

Mrs. L. Ah ! [tenderly) you wouldn't deceive your fond confid- 
ing wife? [affectionately putting her arm in his wounded one) 

Lark, [making a grimace) Not for the world ! 

Enter David, l. 

David, [in a flurried manner) Oh please, ma'am a policemarj has 
just rang at our bell 

Mrs. L. A policeman ? 

David. Yes, ma'am ; seeing we hadn't gone to bed, he called to 
say that as he was going over Primrose Hill, about a quarter of an 
hour ago (Larkings pricks up his cars) he picked up this card 
case, ma'am ! (Larkings hastily fumbhs in all his pockets) 

Lark, [aside) Mine, by Jupiter ! 

David. So he opens it, ma'am, and [to LA^KXViGSwho is making 
violent signs to him to hold his tongue) What's the matter, sir? 
(Mrs. Larkings turns toward Larkings, who again tries to get 
up a whistle) 

Mrs. L. But why bring it to our home ? 

David. Because it's Mr. Larkings's card case, ma'am ! 

Mrs. L. (to Larkings, suspiciously) So you've been to Primrose 
Hill, it seems ? 

Lark. [bothered)'Wes — the fact is — the rooms were so hot — and 
— never having seen the sun set — 1 mean the moon rise — I — 
{aside) I'd better hold my tongue. 

Mrs. L. [after a searching look at him) Where did the man say 
he picked this card case up? 



32 WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 

David. Where the shooting took place, ma'am. 

Mrs. L. The shooting? 

David. Yes, ma'am (^^^m^ Larkings again 7naking signals to 
him) Yes, sir! (Mrs. Larkings looks round and Larkings again 
assumes an air of unconcern) He heard two shots, ma'am — bang, 
bang ; and ran to the spot just in time to see three gentlemen 

walking off ; and 

[durijtg this LARKINGS has been again repealing his signals to 
him) 

Mrs, L. You can go, David. Exit David, at L. 

Larkings ! [eagerly to him) what does this mean ? Speak, Chris- 
topher — what has happened.'' [grasping Larkings's arm, who 
makes a grimace) Ah ! you needn't explain ; I see it all — there has 
been a duel ! 

Lark, (l.) Well 

Mrs. L. (c.) Don't speak; between Mr. Swansdown and you. 

Lark. No, no. 

Mrs. L. Who then? He believed ihaX you wrote the letter to 
his wife ? 

Lark. Yes, yes. 

Mrs. L. And challenged you? 

Lark. Yes, yes. 

Mrs. L. And you fought? 

Lark. Yes — no, no. 

Mrs. L. Yes, yes — no, no. Explain ! No ! I see it all. 

Lark, [aside) She's always seeing it all ! [crosses to R.) 

Mrs. L. When you got on the ground, Mr. Woodcock, who was 
probably your second 

Lark. My second ! yes — exactly. 

Mrs. L. Confessed that he was the real culprit 

Lark, [quickly) That's it. 

Mrs. L. And received Mr. Swansdown' s fire 

Lark. In the arm. 

Mrs. L. Wounded ! Mr. Woodcock -wounded ! 

Lark. Yes. [recollecting) No; that is [aside) Zounds! noth- 
ing was said about that. 

Mrs. L. Poor Mr. Woodcock! Which arm was it? 

Lark. Eh — why — the arm that held the sword ! 

Mrs. L. The sword ! 

Lark. Yes — no, I mean the pistol ! [aside) Now to find Wood- 
cock, and put him on his guard, [turns and sees WOODCOCK, who 
enters at L., with his left arm in a sling — aside) Huzzah ! he's got 
his arm in a sling ! 

Mrs. L. [looking at WOODCOCK, who comes slowly forward, as if 
very inuch ashamed of himself) It is true, then. Unhappy man, I 
pity you! 



WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 33 

Wood, [assuming a veTy penitential voice and manner) I don't 
deserve it. 

Lark, [aside) Confound it ! he's got the wrong arm in the sling ! 
Ahem ! [makim^ violent signs to WOODCOCK to change arms) 

Mrs. L. [looking at Woodcock) Why, how's tliis! [to Lakk- 
iNGs) You told me Mr. Woodcock's wound was in the right arm ! 

Lark, [confused, R.) Did I ? 

Mrs. L. Yes — you distinctly said "the arm that held the pis- 
tol." 

Wood, [very quietly, c.) That's quite right I'm a left-handed 
Woodcock. 

Mrs. L. (l.) It's very shocking! but there's something worse 
behind. 

Wood, [looking behind him) Where! 

Mrs. L. I mean that Mrs. Colonel Carver knows everything. 
She'll return immediately ; when she's done screaming, your only 
hope is to plead guilty at once and sue for pardon for Caroline's 
sake — you know that's her tender point! 

Wood. I will ! I'll throw myself at once upon her tender point. 

Mrs. C. [-without) Don't tell me! I can't — I won't believe it! 

Enter Mrs. Carver, hurriedly, R., and sees Woodcock with his 
arm in a sling. 

Mrs. C. [assuming a very pathetic attitude) Ah ! it's true ! 
[screams and /alls into chair, Mrs. Larkings runs to her — WOOD- 
COCK and Larkings exchange winks and laugh) 

Mrs. L. [to Mrs. C) Hush! the arm is only slightly, very 
slightly wounded. 

Mrs. C. I know better! they'll have to amputate it! I shall have 
a one-armed son-in-law — a wretched, helpless cripple ! [suddenly to 
Mrs. Larki.ngs) My dear friend, go to poor dear Caroline — don't 
leave her till I've had time to do all my screaming! I know I 
screamed in the cab, but not half enough ! Go, go ! 

Exit Mrs. Larkings, c, y?5//tniW by Larkings, 
7oho again exchanges 7uinks, &^c. , with WoODCOCK. 

Mrs. C. [watching them out and then turning to WoODCOCK, 
who looks at her and then turns his head away as if ashamed of him- 
self) Am I awake.'' or is it a dream — a nightmare? No! there 
he stands — at least, all that is left of him. Oh, Marmy! [sobbing 
loudly and burying her face in her handkerchief) 

Wood, (r.) Oh, Carver ! [imitating Mrs. Carver) 

Mrs. C. [indignantly) So, sir ! Scarce ten days married to the 
sweetest, the gentlest of her sex, you actually have the audacity to 
indite a declaration of love to another woman — a married woman 
too ! [suddenly bursting again into sobbing) Oh, Marmy ! 

Wood. Oh, Carver! [same play) 

Mrs. C. (L.) I couldn't have believed it ! [ditto) 



34 WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 

Wood. No, more could I ! {ditto) You've done it. Carver ! 
You would \>x\\\'g me to London, and what's the result? — that I'm 
a lost Woodcock, {in a tone of pretended anguish) 

Mrs. C. Oh, Marmy ! [sobbing very loud) 

\<IooA. Oh, Carver! {ditto) 

Mrs. C. But no ! you can't be utterly depraved in so short a 
time ! 

Wood. Yes, I am! I feel I'm rapidly settling down into an 
atrocious profligate, and I can't help it ! That's the melancholy 
part of it, I can't help it ! You've done it. Carver, you 7£/^z//t/ bring 
me to London ! 

Mrs. C. Oh, Marmv ! {a fresh burst of sobbing) 

Wood. Oh, Carver f [ditto) 

Mrs. C. [suddenly) There's only one thing to be done ! go back 
at once toStow-on-the-Wold, (Woodcock winks, aside) and there, 
with your dear Caroline 

Wood, [putting on a very excited manner) It's too late now ; if 
you had let me stop at Stow-on-the-Wold, I should have been 
perfectly satisfied with my "dear Caroline;" but you would 
bring me to London — you know you would, and what's the result ? 
that one dear Caroline isn't enough for me ! I must have a dozen 
— two dozen — three dozen "dear Carolines!" an unlimited 
quantity of " dear Carolines! I " [very wildly) 

Mrs. C. [indignantly) Silence ! reprobate ! 

Wood. Gently, Carver! gently I I'm not going to be bullied ! 
dash my w ig if I am ! 

Mrs. C. Mr. Woodcock ! 

Wood. I can't help it! You've done it, Carver ! I love — adore 
the whole sex! You re a fine woman Carver! — I love _>'^«/ — 
Come to my arms, Carver! [making a rush open-armed at Mks. 
Carver, who, alarmed, avoids hitn) 

Mrs. C. [alarmed) The man's mad ! I'm ashamed of you ! 

Wood. So am I ! But you would bring me to London ! you 
know you would ! [trying again to throw his arms around her) 

Mrs. C. Help! 

Enter Maid-servant, running, R. 

Oh, Susan ! [running to her) 

Wood. Oh, that's Susan, is it ? Lovely Susan ! embrace your 
Woodcock ! [rushes with open arms at Susan, who, alarmed, rushes 
out screafning) 

Mrs. C. [clasping her hands) And this is my work ! 

Wood. Yes, you've done it Carver ! never mind ; don't cry old 
girl ! [throwing his arm aroutid Mrs. Carver's neck) 

Mrs. C. Oh, Marmy, Marmy, if you've any love for Caroline, 
leave this wicked, abominable, detestable town this very morning 
by the very first train, and go back to Stow-on-the-Wold — I im- 
plore ! I entreat you ! 



WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 35 

Wood, [after a pretended struggle with himself, then smiiing be- 
nignantly) Carver, your tears have conquered ! do with me as you 
will, [throws himself into her arms and makes a 7ury face ot'er her 
shoulder, then looking towards L. ) Swansdown ! what the deuce 
can he want? [retiring to back as Swansdown enters, L. ) 

Swans, [as he enters) It's all right, Woodcock [seeing 'M.R?,. 

Carver) Madam — I 

Mrs. C. Mr. Swansdown, 1 know all ; your duel with my un- 
happy son-in-law 

Swans, [asidt') Bravo! she's on the wrong scent, [aloud) V^tW, 
madam, I presume I have as much right to sympathize with 
the Federals as he has with the Confederates? 

Wood, [who has been trying to attract Swansdown' S notice by 
making signals) He's made a mess of it! I knew he would. 

Mrs C. Federals — Confederates ! I see — a subterfuge to con- 
ceal the real cause of your quarrel. You may rely on receiving a 
letter of apology — ample apology from Mr. Woodcock ! 

Swans. Not till he's recovered the use of his right arm, I beg. 

Wood, [behind) Eh? of course; it was the r/^/z/ arm I [taking 
his left arm out of t/ie sling and inserting the right) 

Mrs. C. The right arm, you mean the left. (Woodcock changes 
arms again) 

Swans. The right ! I think I ought to know. 

Mrs. C. The left ! I suppose I can believe my eyes. 

Swans. Right ! 

Mrs. C. Left ! 

Swans. Right ! ) , , , > 

Mrs. C. Left! } (^""'^^^l 

Wood, ["vho has kept on changing arms rapidly) Oh, bother! 
there ! [stuffing both arms into the sling) 

Enter Mrs. Larkings hurriedly at C.from L. 

Mrs. L. {running to Woodcock) She's here — Caroline ! she's 
heard of the duel ; that you are wounded in the right arm — 
(Woodcock who has both arms in the sling, dra-ws out the left) 
though of course I knew it was the left, (Woodcock changes arms 
again) when luckily — I don't know how it came into myhead — I 
told her it was not her husband but mine who — she's here — don't 
undeceive her ; but first off with this, [dragging the sling violently 
(7^ Woodcock's neck) 

Enter Mrs. Woodcock, hurriedly, c. from L. 

Mrs. W, {runnintr to Woodcock) You are not wounded ? it was 
not you then — Oh, I'm so happy ! [hetv Lakkings appears at C.) 

Mrs. L. [seeing him, runs to him and flings the sling orer his 
neck) Hush, not a word ! [taking hold of his right arm and thrust- 
ing it violently into the sling) 



36 woodcock: 's little game. 

Lark, [crying out with pain) Oh ! 

Mrs. L. \aside to him) That's right — pretend it hurts you ! [lead- 
ing him down) Here is the real culprit ; but as he is sufficiently 
punished already, I forgive him. [aside to Larkings, who is about 
to speak) Hush! You'll have to wear the sling for a week. I'll 
tell you why another time ! 

Lark. With all my heart, [aside to WoODCOCK shaking his 
head) Thanks to you, my wife suspects nothing ! 

Swans, [aside to Woodcock, and shaking Woodcock's other 
hand) Thanks to you, no one suspects mine ! 

Wood. And thanks to both of you. [shaking both their hands) 
I'm going back to Stow-on-the-Wold — that is, if our kind friends 
assure us that success has crowned " Woodcock's Little 
Game ! ' • 



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A rra<1ical and Syttefnatic Cuitit to the Art 014 528 477 6 



PRICE, 25 CENTS. 



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\. Theatrical Wigs. — The Style and Form of Theatrical Wigs 
T<n(i Beards. The Color and Shading of Theatrical Wigs and Beards, 
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HAROLD ROORBACH, Publisher, 

O Murray Street, New York. 



